


Castle in the Air

by rredhoods



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Green Lantern (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Blue Lantern AU, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-02-07 22:39:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12851016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rredhoods/pseuds/rredhoods
Summary: "Jason Peter Todd of Earth, you have the ability to instill great hope. Welcome to the Blue Lantern Corps."





	1. The Installation of Hope

The first time his blue ring finds Jason, he's covered in blood and has a hand loosely covering a gaping wound in his side.

The Gotham vigilante huffs loudly, squinting into the darkness while trying to get his mind to work. He's having trouble determining where the hell he is, mostly due to his swimming vision. The blood loss was making him light-headed, and he knows he won't last much longer laying in this stupid dark alley. him finishing earlier than planned just means nobody would think to look for him yet, and his comm had short-circuited when his helmet had shattered. He didn't think Oracle would be on the look out for him without given a reason, and there had been no street cams around the older parts of the city.

Options. He needed more _options_. Unfortunately, it seemed like that was the one thing he was fresh out of.

Fuck, he was _so_ screwed. He was going to die a second time because his shitty luck hadn't been fixed by the Lazarus Pit. 

 _Talia's going to resurrect me a second time just to kill me again_ , he thinks to himself petulantly, head lolling to the side during a failed attempt to stand. _Despite the fact this really wasn't my fault._

It's as this thought crosses his mind that a blue light shoots through the sky, so fast he thinks he had imagined it. A streak of... _something_ lingers behind it, almost like an afterimage; through the delirium, he wonders why it looks familiar, but...it couldn't be what he thinks because there's nobody around, right? Not any of _them_.

A ring zooms up right in front of him, confirming his suspicions and drawing a yelp from him.

_What the fuck._

"Jason Peter Todd of Earth, you have the ability to instill great hope. Welcome to the Blue Lantern Corps," the ring's disembodied voice rings out, cutting through the silence of the abandoned street. He stares a little harder, watching the ring move closer towards his bloodstained hands. Some long gone part of him scoffs at the idea that he, former street rat and current jackass, was supposed to be a paradigm of _hope_. Did the rainbow squadron not have any standards?

But then the severity of the situation sets in, and a fresh wave of nausea washes over him with the strength of all seven seas. This isn't a sick joke, or Dick pulling his leg; the thing really fucking thought he was going to leave everything and go off into _space_. One city's more than enough for two entire lifetimes, he thinks.

"Yeah, no, no, not really feeling this, this isn't _really_ my vibe, thanks anyways but no thanks," he's rambling, and he's well aware of the fact, but the blood loss was finally getting to him because not only did he want the sweet release of unconsciousness, but he wanted _Bruce_ to swoop in and deal with all his issues as if he was still Robin—

The ring, with a mind of its own, slides itself comfortably onto his right ring finger. He resists the urge to groan in horror, staring at the offending limb with nothing less than alarm.

"Hey, Hal, I'm pretty sure I've found the new—holy shit!  _Jason_?"

Wait. _He recognizes that voice._

A glowing, green man shoots down from the skies. 

Before he can gasp out a plea under duress, Jason blacks out to the sight of one seriously worried Kyle Rayner.


	2. Of Phone Calls and Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Oh, fuck, no Jay, not you," Dick back-pedals so quickly Jason wonders if he has whiplash yet, morbidly amused by Dick’s panic. "Your Hood persona. You deserve something new, something entirely you. Something that isn't about a vendetta that doesn't even exist anymore."

"Explain this to me. Now," Bruce growls, tone cold. 

That's what Jason wakes up to; or, well, what he hears as soon as his head catches up with his body. The very first thing he's aware of is how tightly Bruce is holding onto his hand. 

"I've been explaining it for the last half hour, Bruce," Hal sighs, exasperated. Maybe the man's trying to be softer, given the circumstances, but there was a rough edge to his tone that indicates his displeasure and Jason, amid the haziness of his mind, is reminded that the two heroes didn't like each other. "I don't exactly have a pamphlet to give you about what to do when your kid is recruited as a Lantern." 

They sound close to blows. Jason wonders how much he would have to pay Hal to punch Bruce in the face. He’s too disoriented to laugh at the mental image the thought produces.  
  
"Mmffhh," is all he manages to groan out, but the odd noise is enough to draw the attention of the entire Cave. He doesn't even care that he's interrupting the argument; he feels like Death's warmed up crap.

"Jay!" He hears Dick's distressed cry over the cacophony of voices, but all he feels is the way Bruce is gently easing him into a sitting position. Unconsciously, he leans into the touch, hissing at the way his body protests the slightest movements.

He rigorously avoids the way Bruce leans into him, too.

"Wha," he throws at the older brother tiredly, eyes opened to slits as he tries to take note of who was in the cave. All he can see are blurry figures. Cass—or who he  _assumes_  is Cass, given the slight figure and all black blur—appears out of nowhere, standing on the other side of the cot and stroking his cheek.

He tries to offer her a smile, but it comes out as a grimace instead; the inside of his mouth is dry and tasted of cotton. Cass clucks her tongue before there’s a cup being pushed against his lips and water is running down his parched throat. 

"Are all the batbrats death-proof?" He hears someone ask, immediately followed by a ' _thump_ ' and a pained yelp.

"That one has  _actually_  died, Gardner, you insensitive ass!" 

"Well, how the hell am I supposed to know one of them has died?! They  _multiply_!"

"Tt. Three of us have faced Death and prevailed. Do  _try_  and keep up, Gardner."

"Kid, you're like 12, do  _not_  make me—"

"That's quite enough of that," Alfred's voice cuts through the argument. Jason finally manages a small grin at the 'no nonsense' tone being used on someone other than him.

"Jason," he hears Kyle's voice next, tone coloured with worry. He turns towards the source, somewhere beyond Cass’ shoulder, vaguely aware of Bruce's hand supporting his head. His vision begins to clear, enough to distinguish faces, but nothing beyond those around the bed. "You had a hole in you." 

"Is called a wound, dumbass, try n' keep up," Jason slurs, throwing the Lantern a shark-like grin.

There is a pause.

"Yeah," Kyle deadpans as his friends burst into laughter. Jason feels an ungodly amount of satisfaction at the exasperate fondness he can hear in Kyle’s words. "He's fine, alright."

Jason can somewhat tell that the sound of laughter is much louder than usual. It’s not the usual mix of Stephanie and Dick’s bright guffawing, or Cass’ soft giggles, or even Duke’s chuckles. It’s a mix of hollering and bone-deep mirth, all much louder than any of the Bats, and a small part of him is wondering how many people were currently in the Cave when it hits him.

_The ring._

His eyes shoot fully open, and even Bruce startles as Jason struggles to sit upright.

"Please tell me you're here to take this thing and go home," he waves his hand around, nearly smacking Cass in the face in his haste to share the glowing object still fastened to his finger. "Kyle, talk to it and tell it to leave me  _alone_." 

Kyle gives him a deadpan look; Jason isn’t sure if he should tell him he’s being serious. 

"Kid," and that's Hal Jordan stepping forward, dark hair tousled and eyes uncharacteristically soft, dressed in his usual brown jacket. But, no, Jason doesn't want pity, he wants a fucking solution to the blue, glowing problem occupying his finger. "That's not how it works." 

"The ring won't choose a new bearer unless the previous one is dead," Kyle offers, his hand resting atop Jason's knee in a show of support.

"So someone shoot me and then get Talia to throw me into the Pit again," he suggests wildly, regretting it as soon as Bruce flinches imperceptibly. "I'll come out all squeaky clean and alive—maybe a  _little_  crazy, but—and you'll have a new Lantern."

"No more death," Cass declares gravely, and that's the end of that suggestion.

"You know," Hal offers, hesitant. It’s clear the man knows he’s treading on thin ice. "This could be a good thing. You don't have to…well…you're legally dead, yeah?"

Jason bristles, wary of where the conversation is heading. "So? I've been living my best life despite that crap. I don’t need space therapy, thanks." 

A round of snorts meets his indignant comment, and he makes a mental note to torment all his siblings as soon as he gets the chance to. Stephanie shoots him a grin, almost as if she had read his thoughts, and he revises his plans to make sure she's in on all his pranks.

"Jason..." Dick steps closer, coming to stand next to Hal. His gut twists in alarm at the look on Dick’s face. "Maybe this is a good thing."

"For what?" He snaps, wounded despite everything that muddles their past. He isn't sure why he's surprised anymore, but nonetheless the sentiment hurts a lot more than he thought it would. "Getting rid of me?"

The only Lantern that doesn't flinch away into the farther crevices of the Cave is Kyle; instead, the man moves closer, the hand that isn't on Jason's knee coming up to rest atop Jason's clenched hand.

Jason resists the urge to link fingers for some comfort.

"You know that's not what he meant," Bruce tries to placate, but Jason only has eyes for Dick, who's looking at him with a startling amount of sorrow and determination.

"Jason," he tries again, taking a step closer.

Jason is bitter about being confined to the bed; even if it keeps his anger in check, he wishes he could punch the older man in the face. 

"Gotham doesn't deserve you." 

 _What the hell is_ that _supposed to mean?_  

"You..." Dick looks frustrated at the fact that he's incapable of finding the right words. "You're meant for more than this. You deserve more than this." 

Jason is lost. "The fuck are you talking about? I'm perfectly happy as the Hood, thank you very much—"

"Why did you choose the Red Hood?" 

 _What the fuck is going on_ , he thinks, alarmed that Dick is choosing now to talk about all this crap. In front of all these people.

"You know why," he manages to say, brows furrowed. The hazy kindness of morphine is already giving away to something much worse.

"You chose it to mock Bruce, mock the Joker," Dick barrels on, moving closer and closer until he's at the foot of the bed, staring down at his brother. The Cave is mockingly silent. "Thing is...that's not you anymore. You deserve better than to be a bad memory, Little Wing."

"I'm not..." Jason hates how small he sounds, hates the way his eyes move from Dick's face to Bruce's face to find some form of agreement on the older man's face. He hates the bolt of panic that shoots through him at the thought. "I'm not a bad memory." 

"Oh, fuck, no Jay, not  _you_ ," Dick back-pedals so quickly Jason wonders if he has whiplash yet, morbidly amused by Dick’s panic. "Your Hood persona. You deserve something new, something entirely  _you_. Something that isn't about a vendetta that doesn't even exist anymore."

A fresh start. How many fresh starts has he had by now? How many more could one person possibly need?

"If anybody deserves it, it's Jay," Steph cuts in, voice surprisingly quiet for someone who is always so loud. Cass murmurs her agreement, flashing him a soft smile that has his heart threatening to burst out of his chest. He loves them, he realizes suddenly. He loves them  _so_  much.

So much of him doesn't want to leave them, doesn't want to leave and come back to the  _worst_  possible scenarios—

"Let's cut the 'you deserve it' crap for a second," he decides, voice weary. His side was throbbing, a dull pain spreading through the rest of his body. "Me? A Lantern of Hope? I'd think I'd be a red one, if anything."

Kyle chuckles, drawing Jason's eyes back to him. His friend is watching him with the same fond exasperation from earlier, and Jason finds himself unable to look away. "I know you like to think you're a scary, mad jackass all the time, but honestly? You and hope...it's kinda fitting."

What.

"And," Kyle continues, eyes twinkling with mirth. Jason ignores the flutter that erupts, low in his stomach. "If not hope, I'd say you'd be a Star Sapphire."

There's a shocked silence that follows what Jason thinks is honest to god  _flirting_ ; somewhere in the background, he hears someone unfamiliar ask if Kyle was ‘fucking flirting with a criminal’. He isn't sure if he should be offended or proud. 

"I also think that," Bruce cuts through the silence, tone filled with something unrecognizable and, rather effectively, putting an end to whatever's going on between Jason and Kyle. Though Kyle doesn’t move away, they break eye contact, and it’s the years of training in Jason that stops him from turning and glaring at Bruce.

"Bruce, shut up," Hal throws at the man, before grinning and offering Kyle thumbs up and drawing a groan from the younger Lantern. The obviously paternal gesture makes Jason want to laugh. The two Leaguers were solidly situated on opposite ends of the spectrum; it’s no wonder that they didn’t get along.

"Jason," someone else steps forward this time— _John Stewart_ , his mind supplies—and he offers the man a nod. "I know it's probably not an ideal situation, but the ring chose you for a reason, and in all my years...the ring never lies. You're meant for this, and I hope you choose to come with us, so we can train you. It...it's a  _bit_  of a delicate situation."

"Uh," he says, rather intelligently. Bruce, who is still holding his torso steady, moves closer. He has a feeling that they've already talked about this, in the time he was unconscious.

"There's only one other Blue Lantern," John reveals, voice gentle. "You...are incredibly special. We were surprised to find out there was a second ring, much less on its way to Earth. Which is why all of us are here; we thought it was a false alarm, or something much worse. 

What does that make him? Some kind of lost hero? His nose wrinkles in distaste; he was lost once, probably still is, but it isn’t a label he actively appreciates.

"Second Robin, second Blue Lantern," Jason muses. "I'm seeing a pattern here. So...what the hell am I supposed to do?"

"Come to OA with us," Hal shrugs, offering him a sunny smile. "We'll train you. Since there's only two of you, I think it's okay if you stick with us. Besides..."

He looks like he's about to say something else, but a sharp look from Kyle has the man smirking and bowing out. Jason mentally sets a reminder to ask him what the fuck that was about when they're alone.

“So is this, like…I have to leave with you all as soon as humanly possible?” Jason asks, a little weary of the answer. Despite the fact that he’s warming up to the idea, it doesn’t exactly mean he’s happy with the relocation. There are matters he has to attend to before he goes. 

“Well…the sooner the better,” Hal admits, scratching his head. “The sudden emergence of a new ring…it’s probably not for a good reason. We’ll wait until you’re healed and safe for travel, but I’d rather have you fully trained before anything crazy happens. Though it  _is_  different than with the others, since you’re a fully-fledged hero and all.” 

Huh. It’s nice to know Hal doesn’t consider him a criminal.

Before he can say anything, though, his phone rings and interrupts the conservation. It takes a second, but soon it registers in his mind that it isn’t his usual ringtone and that fact sends a chill up Jason's spine.

He knows who’s calling. 

"Oh my  _fucking_  god," he lets the words slip out by accident, and Bruce shoots him a questioning glance. Because even if he's not at the Manor often, he's sure the man knows his ringtone.

Jason wonders if he could live with it going to voicemail for but a second before rationale takes over and he reminds himself that she has access to multiple private jets and could be there in hours, tops.

Dick hands him the phone with a questioning gaze, and Jason resists the urge to flee; with a quick swipe of his thumb, he answers the call.

“Talia.” 

The mood in the Cave immediately plummets. 

Bruce scowls deeply, expression matched by Dick; Damian looks disgruntled, Steph looks confused, and Cass has gone still. Tim, Alfred, and Duke all have matching frowns on their faces, and the Lanterns…the Lanterns all looked bewildered.

“Talia  _Al Ghul_?” Hal mouths at John, jaw dropping. 

“Sweet boy,” she says, tone full of sugar. He can hear the tension under her pleasantry, though, and it’s unnerving because he  _knows_  she’s upset. Good things never happen when she’s upset. “What have you gotten yourself into, hm?” 

“What have I said about privacy,” his voice is low, but it doesn’t matter because Bruce can hear him anyways. He can see the way the man is holding himself, the barely there anger that’s so deadly, so precise. “Did you have my comm rigged? Or was it my helmet this time?” 

“Oh, please, I respect your privacy just fine considering you’re an overgrown child,” she scoffs, ignoring his splutters. “There are cameras in your father’s cave, and my men reported a plethora of Lanterns in the city. What is this about a blue ring?”

It’s unsurprising that she already knows more about the situation than he does, even if she’s not in the city. Jason finds himself wishing she  _was_ , finds himself missing her wisdom.

“I’m a Blue Lantern now. Surprise,” he draws out the last word, hoping to drive away some of her ire. Next to him, Kyle snorts.

“Mm…I see. And what are you going to do about it?”

That…is a good question. Jason blinks up at the rest of the Bats uncertainly, before letting his eyes roam over to Kyle. He’s watching him, obviously waiting to hear what his answer is.

“I think…,” he pauses, throat still raw with misuse. All the attention is on him and he itches to divert it. Everyone in the room already knows he doesn’t really have a choice in the matter, even if they were pretending there  _was_  a choice. “I think I’m going to space." 

Guy Gardner hoots; a dull thud later, there’s a yelp and then silence.

The silence is unnerving.

Talia breathes in deeply, and the sound rattles through the phone; turning his attention away from the way Bruce is suddenly avoiding him, Jason awaits what she has to say.

It takes her a minute, and that itself is confusing enough. Talia is quiet by nature, but Jason can tell this is something entirely different; it’s almost… _melancholic_. She is the storm that you don’t fear until it obliterates you. 

For a moment, he fears what she’s about to say, but it clears when he remembers that in her own way, Talia has never led him astray. 

He waits. 

"You are something extraordinary, sweet boy," she murmurs, chuckling to herself. He forgets how to breathe; even if he was expecting something unorthodox, the sudden honesty is disarming. "I saw it before the Pit, before your training...and I think this ring of yours sees the same."

"Talia...I don't..." Jason's helpless in the face of her naked kindness, and he isn't ashamed when his eyes begin to blur. Her faith has been his pillar for so long, the one person in his life who came to be proud of the mess he has grown to become. He and Bruce are on good terms now, but Talia...there is an intangible difference, nearly infinite, between the relationships he held with both of them, and it shows in moments like this.

"You bring light to whoever you touch, and it's not surprising the universe itself knows it," Talia continues, tone warm. "Go and do what you must, Jason. I expect a visit and a detailed telling of your exploits upon your return."

He wonders if he should be bitter about the things she did, the way she kept him away, but he  _can’t_. She gave him everything,  _birthed_  him the second time around; in many ways, she is just as much a mother to him as Catherine was.

He closes his eyes, a wealth of emotion washing over him. “Thanks, Talia.”

There is nothing more he has to say; with another hum, she hangs up, and Jason is left listening to the dial tone. There is a moment of silence that passes, a careful beat that gives him time to recollect himself before Damian is all but sneering in his face.

“We are not enough to convince you, but whatever nonsense Mother fed you is? I thought you less  _pathetic_ , Todd.”

“Damian,” Bruce starts, stern, but Jason is shaking his head at the man and reaching out to ruffle the kid’s hair, pulling him closer by the collar of his shirt.

He knows Damian still struggles with the bitter taste of betrayal, faces his nightmares with all the strength of a child. It’s unfair to keep Talia close and be around Damian as much as he is, but Jason Todd is a selfish man. He loves his brother, and Talia is a part of who he is.

Still, some part of him aches at seeing the obvious hurt in Damian’s eyes.  _I’m not choosing her over you_ , he desperately wants to say.  _I’d never choose her over you._

But Damian doesn’t want to hear that; not here, in front of colleagues and their entire family. Those are quiet words, spoken between quips and head rubs from the tallest points in Gotham City. 

His love is in the soft murmurs he whispers into Damian’s ear whenever the boy wakes up screaming from a nightmare, in the nights where he lets his guards down and acts his age, curled up against Jason’s side as they watch a movie. It’s in the head rubs and relentless teasing, the late-night diner runs and games of rooftop tag.

“She saved my life,” he reminds the boy, voice serious in a way he usually isn’t. He needs Damian to  _know_. “I answer when she calls, visit when she asks. I owe her that much, kiddo.” 

Damian’s expression falls for a split second, and Jason wants to kick himself for the words that just came out of his mouth. There’s no easy way of talking about this, he knows, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. For the billionth time, he curses Talia’s involvement in Damian’s death. 

“Please,” he says instead, and its quiet enough that Damian finally  _looks_  at him, looks at what Jason isn’t saying.

“Tt,” Damian finally snaps, crossing his arms and fixing his older brother with a glare. Jason sighs in relief, pulling the kid in and ignoring how pliant his brother his in his hold. “So long as your stupidity doesn’t get the rest of us killed.”

“It hasn’t yet,” he offers, and with a final scoff, Damian pulls away to settle back into his spot next to Dick, who puts an arm around Damian’s shoulders and hugs him close. 

At the end of the day, Damian is just a child, and seeks comfort in familiarity. Jason is glad he’ll have Dick and Stephanie and Cass, even if he himself isn’t there for all the nights in-between. Hell, he’s glad the boy will have Duke, too, knowing they got along over the small things; mutual hobbies and all that. 

A sudden bolt of pain in his side draws a startled gasp from Jason’s lips, and then he’s doubling over, clutching at his side and groaning loudly. Bruce ducks down with him, holding onto his second son through the pained gasps and curses.

“The IV needs to be changed,” Alfred notes, moving closer to the bed and working with the efficiency of an expert. Cass and Kyle get out of the man’s way, the latter watching Jason anxiously. “Perhaps that’s enough excitement for the young master for one day.”

“B-But there’s still…sh-stuff to discuss,” Jason grits out, but a  _look_  from Alfred shuts him up.

“You’re in no shape for any more adventures tonight, young man,” Alfred’s tone is light, but Jason is a season veteran in dissecting Alfred’s different voices. The patriarch of the family is more or less putting his proverbial foot down.

Or, in Alfred-speak, he’s telling everyone to get the fuck out of the Cave. 

“The Lanterns are more than welcome to stay in our guest rooms until Jason is fit for travel,” Alfred gestures for the group of men to head on upstairs, smiling kindly at Kyle, who’s lagging behind. “The rest of you should also head to bed. I daresay you’ll need your sleep for the days to come.”

“I should stay with him,” Bruce argues immediately, only slightly cowed when Alfred turns his attention onto him. He shakes his head, gently pushing Bruce in the direction of the locker room.

“Master Jason needs his rest,” he chides, guiding the man in question back under the blankets. Bruce is reluctant to go, but another stern look from Alfred has him shuffling towards the showers, and Jason resists the urge to snort at the image. 

Not that he has the energy to do so, anyways. 

Cass squeezes Jason’s hand once before melting into the shadows, no doubt on her way to her own shower.

“Feel better, man,” Duke tells him earnestly, nodding his farewell before climbing the stairs. Jason watches him go with the beginnings of a fond smile, eyes sliding shut as Alfred adjusting the pillows and blankets. The comforting warmth is a direct contrast to the chill spreading from his wound, and he welcomes the consolation. 

Kyle still lingers by the base of the stairs, taking in the soft look on Jason’s face for a moment, something in his heart lifting, before he heads up the stairs as quick as he can. 

Jason barely notices the hasty exit, too focused on Dick, who had slid into the space Bruce had been occupying without so much as a sound. Jason watches him, eyes holding a spark of light even through the sluggishness weighing everything else in his body down.

“You deserve it,” Dick reiterates, but doesn’t elaborate. Jason doesn’t ask for an explanation. 

Dick gently ruffles his hair, his warm touch lingering before he and Damian are also heading for the showers. Jason watches them go, the knot in his chest loosening considerably. There is something unbelievable in every small gesture, every unspoken message. This is perhaps not entirely his, not yet, but it’s the beginning of something that eases the loneliness in his bones. There is a simple truth in his mind, anchoring him to Gotham and the Manor and to every Bat that had flocked to the Cave for him.   

He cherishes them all.

There’s a soft kiss pressed against his forehead, breaking him from his reverie and drawing a surprised noise from him. Through the slits between his eyelids, he sees a sea of blonde and a pair of sparkling eyes.

“I’ll see ya tomorrow, Jay,” Stephanie pinches his cheek, bounding off with a laugh before he can say anything to her about the patronizing gesture. He lets her off the hook ( _just this once_ , he promises himself, already knowing it’s futile), instead returning his attention to Alfred.

“Space, hm?” Alfred murmurs, voice tender. Jason offers him a rare smile, the closest he’ll ever come to Robin again. He pretends to not see the way Alfred is blinking away tears.

“I guess so,” he says instead, curling up on his good side and pulling the sheets around him tighter. Most nights he can’t sleep with sheets on top of him, nightmares always twisting the soft cloth into something menacing, but he knows the drugs will keep any memories at bay. “Quite the step up from good ol’ Gotham, eh?” 

“I’ll miss you,” Alfred admits, straightforward. It takes Jason by surprise. “It was nice having you home again, Master Jason.”

A part of him aches.

“Sorry,” he says, not knowing what he’s apologizing for. Alfred chuckles, running a hand through Jason’s matted hair.

“No need, my boy,” He smiles, pausing his ministrations to put away some of the medical supplies strewn across the tables. Jason feels the morphine beginning to kick into his system, his senses shutting down to give way to the darkness of unconsciousness. He welcomes the escape from the pain in his bones. 

“You deserve a new beginning, perhaps more than anyone,” is the last thing he hears before he slips away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaahhhh thank you everyone for the crazy response to the first chapter! I'm glad you're all enjoying the fic so far!


	3. A Father and His Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re going to do amazing things out there,” Bruce continues, a twinkle in his suspiciously wet eyes. “And I’ll be here waiting to hear all about it when you get back.”

Jason wakes up to the feeling of a body curled up next to him, stealing his sheets and leaving him weak to the cold dreariness of the Cave. He stiffens for a moment, before his brain catches up with him and he is reminded that only one person knows they could get away with doing such a heinous thing.

“Cass,” he whines, petulant. The bundle in question hums, letting him know she’s awake. “I’m freezing.”

"Yes," Cass agrees, before burrowing closer and effectively telling him to shut up. With an exaggerated huff, Jason wraps an arm around her slender form and allows himself a look around the cave.

Where his eyes immediately fall on Kyle, holding a sketchbook and looking incredibly guilty. 

“I know what this looks like,” he starts slowly, hands moving up into the air, sketchbook dropping back into his lap. “But, I…it’s not what it looks like?”

“Why do you sound like you’re asking me a question,” Jason manages to deadpan, even as his sleep ladled brain supplies how hot Kyle looks at the moment. Because, no, his fully conscious self would not, under any circumstances, think of  _ Kyle Rayner _ as  _ hot _ .

“I’m trying to avoid death,” Kyle tells him seriously, but the twinkle in his eyes and the quirk of his lips gives away the amusement. There’s no one else in the Cave, and the overhead lights cast a gentle glow over the entire area.

“I’d never kill you, Rayner,” Jason—stupidly—blurts out without pause, and when his brain finally catches up with his mouth, his immediate reaction is to turn pink.

Kyle’s mouth opens, and then closes, a stunned expression chasing the mirth off his face. Cass’ lips quirk up as she huddles closer, enjoying the sudden tension in the air.

And Jason? Jason is praying for a swift death. 

“Well, yeah, I sure hope so,” Kyle finally manages, after about a minute of silence. Jason finds himself again wishing for death, more than ever before, but chokes out a small laugh in a desperate attempt to nullify what he had just caused.

“Is everyo—”

“Jaybird!”

Jason startles at the sound of a very peppy blonde bounding down the stairs, and Cass deftly rolls out of the blanket and stands up, completely unfazed and appearing as if she had been standing next to the bed the entire time. He manages a huff of laughter at that; Cass’ infamous blanket stealing crimes were well-known among the Bats, but nobody ever had evidence. Despite the charade, Stephanie shoots Cass a knowing grin, before dipping down and pressing a quick kiss against Jason’s cheek.

He groans for appearance’s sake, but when she pulls away, there’s a smile on his face. Only two people on the planet can get away with touches like that, and they were Cass and Steph; everyone else were aware that they were not to initiate contact like that unless they wanted to lose a limb. Sure, there are exceptions to the rule, but he’s steadfast in avoiding Dick’s monstrous hugs.

“How’s the wound feeling?” She asks, as Duke and Damian come down the stairs with a yawning Dick trailing behind them. Bruce and the other Lanterns are nowhere to be found, and Jason barely registers Kyle tossing the sketchbook away with haste.

It’s the oddest assortment of people, but he feels a sense of belonging nonetheless. 

“It’s on the mend,” he offers, moving around to demonstrate how much better he was feeling. Though there had been a lot more consequences than benefits, the Lazarus waters had given him accelerated healing; it’s really convenient whenever things like stab wounds happened. And considering their line of work, it’s convenient often. 

“You getting injured is disappointing but unsurprising,” Damian sniffs, climbing onto the bed and making himself at home on the edge. All of them, delightfully enamoured by the sudden use of a meme by the youngest, grin, and not a second later money exchanges hands. 

“You know, Dami, you’re killing me, you’re killing your best bro,” Jason complains, but as he goes to throw the pillow at the kid, Duke deflects the object and laughs at the betrayal written across the vigilante’s face.

“DND bros gotta stick together,” Duke shrugs, laughter dying off. Dami looks mightily smug. “You can’t kill him before the next episode, jackass.”

“Bold of you to assume a pillow would kill the mighty heir,” Steph snorts, squawking in indignation as Robin swipes at her halfheartedly. Everyone watches with varying degrees of amusement as the two dissolve into a scuffle, rolling off the bed and onto the floor in a mess of limbs and yells. 

Dick offers them all a sigh, a textbook image of a tired father, and opens his mouth up to speak, but someone beats him to it. 

“The truth is that you’re a fucking  _ asshole _ !”

They all jump, startled at the loud bang that echoes through the Cave and the men who come storming down the stairs. Hal looks downright furious, brows furrowed and lips pulled back in a nasty sneer, while Bruce looks outright annoyed.

“Jordan, you’re acting like a child,” Bruce snaps, striding over to the locker rooms and disappearing without saying another word. Everyone watches on with varying degrees of amusement and horror as Hal sputters and swears angrily for the entirety of the minute it takes Bruce to throw off the Batsuit, said man walking back into the main room.

“Space is not League territory!” Hal insists, arms outstretched. His ring glints ominously, and Jason swears his responds in kind; soft, blue light blinks up at him and he finds himself riveted. “There is nothing you can do up there! Not only that, but you had no right implying I can’t do my damn job!”

“If something goes wrong, you need back-up,” Bruce throws back, and Jason could have sworn it was a snarl; there’s really no one who gets under Bruce’s skin the same way Hal does. He’s kind of jealous of how quickly the other man can accomplish the feat, because no matter what Jason does anymore, nothing fazes Bruce. “We have to be able to  _ provide _ that back-up, Hal.”

“You’re only doing this because you don’t trust me with your son!” Hal bellows, and Jason startles at the sudden callout. John and Guy are now rushing down the stairs, both with wary expressions on their faces and their rings already glowing. Jason feels the tension before it’s even released into the air. “He’s not only a grown man, but he’s also surrounded by Lanterns who are  _ good _ at their job and  _ won’t get him killed _ !”

The room quiets down immediately; Hal’s face falls, and Bruce goes still.

“Enough!” Jason growls, heat crawling up his neck. How many times had he done the same thing? How many times had he thrown his death back in Bruce’s face? Had Bruce looked that devastated all those times as well? “Enough, Hal. He gets it.” 

But it’s too little too late; Bruce heads upstairs, and Hal looks guilty as hell. The cave stays quiet, and Stephanie squeezes his hand in a welcomed gesture of comfort. 

“I didn’t...he’s just so frustrating and I…” Hal is at a loss for words, and Jason doesn’t blame him. He can relate to the confusing despair you feel after lashing out in anger at Bruce, can relate to the sudden tiredness that settles in, the sadness. 

“Hal,” John sighs, rubbing a hand across his face. Jason gets the feeling that stuff like this happens often. “You can’t just say whatever comes to mind.”

It is a familiar conversation; there is a sudden urge for fresh air. 

“Can I get out of here?” He asks, head swivelling to Dick, seeing how Alfred wasn’t in the room. The oldest Robin is, for some reason, responsible for all of them when Alfred wasn’t in the immediate vicinity. Bruce didn’t count, given how often they undermine his authority. “I’ll take Steph and Cass with me, so you don’t have to fuss.”

“Fine,” Dick allows, sharp eyes watching Steph help him off the bed. “Don’t go any farther than the gardens, though.”

“Yes, dad,” Jason rolls his eyes, but gives his brother a grateful grin nonetheless. And with Steph and Cass at his side, the trio manages to make it up the stairs and out the front door, the sounds of John scolding Hal fading into nothingness. 

Jason is immediately hit with soft sunlight and a gentler breeze, and it’s a hard thing not to sigh in contentment. They frequent the cave often but he really did hate the place; too many memories on top of the mustiness and the cold. 

“Bet it feels nice,” Stephanie’s voice cuts through the reverie, and Jason glances at her to find her grinning up at him. “God knows the Batcave is a horrible place when you can’t go anywhere. I love Alfred but there’s no amount of cleaning that can get that place homey.”

He snorts. She’s not wrong in the slightest and they all know it; Cass even manages to stifle a giggle, instead focusing her energy on getting Jason settled into the veranda before taking a seat next to him. The varying plant life around them fills the air with a sweet scent that makes him want to go back to bed, but instead he puts his arms around the girls and settles back against the cushioning.

“Are you nervous?” Cass asks, after a few minutes of silence pass. 

He considers the question.

Is he nervous? It wasn’t anything new, the sudden uprooting of his life, except this time it wasn’t death but rather a shiny ring that he can’t get rid of. Any logical person would be terrified of the prospect of leaving behind everything they’ve known to go and face an unknown evil, but Jason…

Jason remembers the Lazarus Pits, the screams that threatened to tear his throat apart. He remembers clawing through his coffin, lungs filled with wet dirt and fingernails bloodied. He remembers bits and pieces of a life that was never a life at all, a mess of memories from before Talia had thrown him into the waters. 

“It can’t be worse than what’s on Earth, right?” He finally settles on, and what is meant to be a witty quip falls flat.

Cass and Steph exchanged worried glances, and Jason berates himself for the slipup. He’s used to minimizing the horrors he’s faced over the years, turning them into morbid jokes and clapbacks used at the worst possible times. But sometimes,  _ sometimes _ , his mask cracks and the truth comes spilling out.

“I’m okay,” he tries, pulling both of them in closer, holds them close to his chest. Their family has overcome so much anger, and bloodshed, and death. So much of it he had put them through, and yet his siblings were still at his side. A fool, he had been; they  _ all _ had been fools. “I’m okay, I’m here, I’m  _ okay _ .”

And...he  _ is _ . The wind brushes past them, a refreshing feeling to the humid air of the cave. The solid weight of both Steph and his sister against his sides grounds him, keeps him anchored, and now is one of the rare times Jason Peter Todd, the phantom Wayne, is  _ happy _ .

He smiles.

“Good,” Cass murmurs, dainty fingers brushing across his chest. “You deserve it.”

“You know, Jay, not only will your hero career flourish in space, but your love life too,” Steph changes the subject flawlessly, and he feels his traitor body begin to heat up in embarrassment. The mere thought of the Lantern was enough to spark a fire through his body, and he isn’t prepared to face the consequences of his emotions. Crushes when you’re a crime-fighter are abysmal at best. 

“Yeah, no, I’m gonna have to ask you to shut up,” he says, flicking her ear. “Me and Kyle...there’s nothing there. Negative attraction.”

“You’re a great liar, Jay, but I’m the best of the best,” Steph tilts her chin upwards, looks every inch the princess she deserves to be. “And I call bullshit.”

“I don’t have feelings for Kyle Rayner! And he most definitely does not have feelings for me!” 

Okay. 

He’s lying. 

But this is something Jason’s barely managed to wrap his own head around; he isn’t prepared to deal with Stephanie’s brand of questioning just yet. In his haste to shut down Steph, he forgets his own sister and her brand of crazy intuition. 

“Kyle loves you,” Cass says, voice gentle. Firm. And hell if it doesn’t leave Jason gaping. “I can see it.”

“In all seriousness Jay,” Stephanie cuts in, leaning back into his shoulder. It sometimes leaves him in awe, how well they fit together.  _ His _ Robin, if he had to choose. “This could be good. You two would be good for each other. I’m speaking it into existence.”

“You two sure are persistent,” he says after a lull in the conversation, heaving an exaggerated sigh. “I’ll keep you updated, if you promise to keep off my back about the whole thing.”

His words are met with twin grins of delight, but before anyone can say anything, the back door opens, gathering all of their attention; a second later, Bruce appears, moving slow. 

They pause.

“Ladies,” Jason hears himself say, eyes only on his father. “Could you, um...uh...yeah.”

Even though his words failed him, the duo of batgirls did not; silently, they stand and retreat in the direction of the Batcave, throwing encouraging smiles over their shoulders.

He tries to smile back, but Bruce has all his attention, just like old times.

“Jason,” the man says once he’s close enough, and up close Jason can see the tiredness that lines his face. “Are you feeling better?”

And for a moment, time stops.

Jason is good at reading people. Out of everything Talia taught him, he had taken to non-verbal communication like a fish takes to water. It’s saved his life on and off the field, has ended arguments with his siblings before they’d even started.

Sometimes, at the end of the longest patrols or the climax of a long fight, he can even read Bruce. When the man is lost to sleep deprivation or the horrors of Gotham, his mask fades, and Jason is left with a plethora of emotions. 

This is one of those times: he can read guilt, pain, and fear, clear as day, and in between them is longing and affection.

It makes his chest ache.

“I’m feeling a lot better,” Jason manages to say, moving over to make room for Bruce, who takes a seat next to him. They have come far enough for Bruce to be able to put a gentle hand over his son’s knee, far enough for them to share a smile. “The Lazarus Pit gave me healing powers, so.”

Bruce’s eyes narrow in distaste at the mention of the magical pit, and Jason winces at the mistake. Around them, the wind begins to pick up, enough that Jason’s hair begins to sway back and forth. 

“C’mon, old man,” he tries, fruitlessly. It’s a sore topic, and one they dance around all the time. Jason knows there’s little he can do to soothe the hurt Talia wrought by hiding him away, but what’s done is done and it’s tiresome how Bruce reacts to it. “It’s in the past. Let it go.”

“Yes, well. I wish Talia had consulted me before throwing my dead son into the Lazarus Pit,” Bruce says, and the words are clipped, tired, wrong.

_ Wrong _ .

His heartbeat picks up in speed as thoughts begin to form in his mind, and Jason can’t quite stop his jaw from dropping. Of course. Of course there’s no way Bruce could know, considering they never,  _ ever _ talk about it. 

“Bruce…” Jason’s voice is small, reminiscent of his Robin days. “I wasn’t dead when Talia put me in the Pit. You know that, right?”

His father’s body goes rigid.

“What?”

There is a pause.

“Oh,  _ Dad _ ,” Jason whispers, and the words are apologetic, and broken, and agonized by the truth.

Bruce turns to him fully, dark eyes searching his face for some hint, any hint, of a lie, a joke, a farce. Jason meets his gaze head-on; it’s the least he can do. The hand on his knee tightens, and Bruce’s free hand reaches for his face, motive unclear.

“Chum?” Bruce breathes, and Jason can  _ hear _ the sorrow in his words. Can see it in the tremor of his fingers, the glassy look in his eyes. He wishes he couldn’t. He wishes he couldn’t see anything. How did he ever enjoy causing his father pain? “Jay...what are you saying?”

And so Jason tells him. He tells him the story of the boy who had woken up in a coffin, who had freed himself and climbed through slick mud and dirt already grievously injured. Recounts how he had stumbled through the graveyard, miraculously, only to be hit by a car and sent into a coma. Time spent in Gotham, barely alive, before fate intervened and Talia Al Ghul found him. 

His voice quiets, then, as he tells his father about the lengths Talia had gone to in order to try and fix him. Long nights spent telling stories about the Dark Knight, about Gotham, about anything to try and mend his broken mind. 

By the end, there are tears in Bruce’s eyes.

“All these years and I never…” He says, voice hoarse. “You were here. You were right  _ here _ in Gotham for so long, and I...I could’ve had you home so much  _ sooner _ .”

This is a turning point in their relationship, Jason knows. What he does now...it’ll stay with them for the rest of their lives, however short.

He internally acknowledges how much more they have to sort out, how much trauma keeps him rooted to the past, to the nightmares. But at the same time...he remembers all the movie nights, all the games of rooftop tag, all the times he’s fallen asleep in the Cave to wake up to a cape wrapped around him. 

Jason Todd remembers a family. His arguably annoying brothers, an angelic sister, and a best friend in the form of a hellion who calls herself Spoiler. A butler turned grandfather and confidant. His father, the man who had given him wings and taught him to fly. 

_ His _ family. 

So he reaches out past Bruce’s arms and pulls his dad into a tight hug, pressing his face into the crook of Bruce’s neck as if all the years of bloodshed and anger hadn’t happened. It doesn’t take long for Bruce to reciprocate, and soon the two men are lost in an embrace meant to soothe, to heal.

“It’s in the past,” Jason mumbles, a suspicious burn in his eyes. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. That’s not why I told you. I told you so you’d understand what Talia means to me, I told you so…”

He pauses, the words caught in his throat. Just last year, he wouldn't have meant them. Would’ve laughed at the sheer thought of thinking of the Bats of Gotham as anymore than an inconvenience. But now here, in the arms of his father, he realizes just exactly where his journey had brought him. And would always bring him. 

“I told you so you’d know I always find my way home.”

He can feel the way Bruce’s breath hitches. With reluctance, Jason pulls away, instead choosing to lock eyes with the man sitting next to him.

“I know it’s probably hard for you to let me go again but I’ll be back,” he vows, then and there. “Not just for you, but for the others, too. Can’t just leave them with Dick when I’m the superior older brother.”

Bruce manages a small chuckle despite it all. “Don’t let your brother hear you say that. He’ll demand a trial by combat to defend his honour and then Jordan will be even  _ more _ up my ass for wasting his time.”

Jason laughs at that, and slowly the tension melts away. “C’mon, B, Jordan’s gonna be up your ass no matter what happens. The degree of it just depends on the day. And Hal would enjoy the  _ shit _ out of a trial by combat.”

“He would,” Bruce sighs, and the mirth fades into something more somber. “Chum, Hal is right.”

Jason’s eyebrows shoot up. Is he dead again?

“He was right when he was accusing me of trying to control the situation because you’re involved,” Bruce pauses, contemplative. “But...you’re stronger than I give you credit for. It’s just whenever I look at you...I see you as Robin, as the small child who needed my protection all those years ago. Not the man you’ve become.”

In the past, he would’ve tensed at that. He would’ve spat choice words at Bruce and stormed out, avoiding everyone for at least a week or two. But now...he just offers a sad smile full of understanding. “I’m not a child anymore, B.”

The wind sings a sad song around them.

Bruce returns the smile, melancholic. “I know, son. It’s probably because I missed out on so much but...child or not, you are  _ my _ son. My kid. And I will  _ always _ worry.”

And fuck if those words don’t bring tears to Jason’s eyes. 

“You’re going to do amazing things out there,” Bruce continues, a twinkle in his suspiciously wet eyes. “And I’ll be here waiting to hear all about it when you get back.”

And after that, there isn’t much left to say. 

Jason offers him a firm nod, a promise, and Bruce stands at that, satisfied. He then turns to his son to help him onto his feet, and together they make their way back to the Batcave, idle chatter filling the silence. 

And upon entrance, Jason realizes the Cave is fuller than he had left it.

“You must be the new guy!” A dark-haired woman bounces towards him, an excited smile on her face. She’s in a Green Lantern getup, so Jason assumes this must be Jessica Cruz. “It is  _ so _ nice not to be the new guy anymore.”

“You’re, uh, welcome?” Jason throws Dick a slightly bewildered glance, but the elder Bat just grins at him in amusement. 

“Simon,” Bruce interrupts the conversation, a pleased lilt to his voice. “A pleasure to see you again.”

“Hey, Batman,” Simon Baz offers a wave and a casual smile, seated next to Kyle and Guy. “Sorry for dropping in like this, but we heard that Red Hood’s the new Blue Lantern and figured our help would be needed.”

“Speaking of trouble and all that good stuff,” Kyle pipes up, sparing Jason a quick look. Jason offers him a quirk of his lips, an action that Kyle reciprocates. “When should we get going?” 

“I was thinking tomorrow,” John answers, scratching his chin. “Gives Jason a bit more time to say his farewells, and gives us a bit of a break, too. Whatever’s coming is going to be exhaustive for sure, might as well get our rest in when we can. Simon, Jess...are you coming to base with us?”

“Sounds like you’ll need us,” Simon says, brow furrowing as he thought it out. Jessica is already nodding. “A day gives us time to wrap up things here so we can come with you.” 

“A day to settle any grievances, then,” Alfred says, and it’s in the tone he uses when he’s implying something should be done. Beside him, Bruce winces.

A day left on Earth? Jason could work with that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait!! I have no explanation at all except life got in the way, but nonetheless I hope this makes up for the wait! Comments are appreciated, until next time folks >;3

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaa this is really short and I KNOW I have a bunch of other projects unfinished, but this won't leave me alone! The next chapter will be longer and I hope you enjoyed the opening to the fic! :-)


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